


All too much and all too clever

by Ostodvandi



Series: Fire Emblem Trans Week 2020 [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Everybody Lives, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internalized Transphobia, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Trans Male Character, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:40:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25360087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ostodvandi/pseuds/Ostodvandi
Summary: Sylvain has always felt like a lie shaped like a human. There is one person that won't fall for any of those lies, and see the person within instead.
Relationships: Glenn Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: Fire Emblem Trans Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1836526
Comments: 12
Kudos: 36
Collections: Fire Emblem Trans Week 2020!





	All too much and all too clever

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic for trans week! Two days late but alas, I'm too busy to write for every single day anyway and this fic is long as it is. Beware of Very Depressed People Talking About Wanting To Die. Also, some trans Felix sprinkled here and there.
> 
> The title is from the song "In blue" by Declan McKenna, which has the vibes of this fic in general.

‘Glenn.’

He had turned to a younger, more innocent Sylvain, with his smart grey eyes and hair long and wavy like a warrior of old. Sylvain had looked into those gorgeous eyes and wondered just what the lump in his throat could be and why he shivered from the sound of Glenn’s answer.

‘Yes, sunshine?’

The nickname had always been there - a pun on Sylvain’s fiery orange hair, a color that always stood out in the black and white world that was Gautier. And yet, it felt special now, because Sylvain was about to confide in Glenn for something no one else could know.

‘Would you lend me some of your clothes?’

They both had some sort of awakening at that moment. Sylvain would later understand that Felix, back then, had made a similar suggestion. Hence why the smile of an accomplice appeared on Glenn’s lips.

‘...It’s late, sunshine.’

‘We could sneak out. For a little while.’

Sylvain had felt so indecent, so shameless saying those words. Ironic, looking back. Glenn’s smile had widened, and Sylvain had followed him to his bedroom, offering him a whole chest of man’s clothes for him to try out on his own. When Sylvain had chosen a bunch that looked decent in the mirror, Glenn pulled his long hair back, using one of his own ribbons to tie it.

‘There we go,’ he had said, as Sylvain dwelled on the touch of Glenn’s fingertips over his skin. ‘Hey, you do make a very handsome boy.’

Sylvain had huffed, but, truth is, it made his heart race like no other thing in the world.

  
  


That would be far from the last time Glenn was his accomplice. 

* * *

Deceiving people was, for the most part, easy. Those people also included himself: for a short while, he could lie to himself and say he cared about the string of girls that claimed to fall in love with him. In the end, he knew the truth: he was there for the thrill, and they were there for the babies he could never give them. And then, before they could find out about  _ him _ , he’d push them away.

Deny his attraction to men was as easy as reaffirming his attraction to women: it was the  _ natural  _ course of things, being a man attracted to women, and there were so many excuses to hide under. He wasn’t  _ attracted  _ to Dimitri, he just acknowledged His Highness was a handsome young man. He didn’t  _ like  _ that one squire his brother had during the brief time he actually trained to be a knight, he simply had wanted to look like him. There was one weakness to his intricate web of lies, though.

Glenn showed up at the monastery one day, with his hair all pulled to one side, his long boots, and his flowing cape, and he looked taller and stronger than ever, despite being significantly shorter than the average Fodlanese man. He had arrived representing his father, who was too busy with the government of the dukedom (and calming Sylvain’s father down, as well).

He had seen him first in the knight’s hall, talking to His Highness. His expression was that of a pleased feline, his back straightened like a proper noble’s, and his eyes glimmered when he noticed Sylvain standing at the hall’s entrance.

‘Oh, sunshine! Just who I wanted to see.’

_ Sunshine _ .

_ Who I wanted to see _ .

Sylvain flushed for the first time in months but managed to keep his cool, rubbing the back of his neck and mustering an awkward laugh. In other circumstances, he would’ve managed a perfect performance and known just what to say, but Glenn was horribly good at seeing through him. His silver stare made him feel emotionally naked - but not exactly in danger.

Glenn was - safety.

  
  


‘It’s about Miklan,’ he had said, over a cup of Seiros tea. ‘I will be participating in the mission as well. If you don’t wish to go, I will talk to your professor and…’

‘Glenn, please,’ he interrupted, half laughing. ‘I knew this day would come sooner or later. He’s… a piece of trash.’ And maybe this was the best outcome for Sylvain. ‘I’m used to cleaning after his messes.’

‘The older brothers are the ones supposed to help out,’ Glenn grumbled, taking a sip of his tea. ‘What a fucking waste of a man.’

Sylvain’s fingers stroked the tea cup absentmindedly. ‘It’s… not all his fault.’

Glenn frowned, leaving his cup on its saucer. ‘Bullshit. He’s old enough to decide if he’s going to become a good person or a bad one. And he decided the latter and will pay for it.’ Always so straightforward with his thoughts. At this point, it shouldn’t surprise Sylvain how much anger Glenn harbored against Miklan. It was probably even more than whatever bundle of emotions Sylvain had within him about the man. ‘After all he did just to hurt you-’

‘It’s fine,’ Sylvain replied tiredly. ‘I’m fine. I’ll participate on the mission, we’ll hand Miklan over to the church and…’ And they would execute him. His father for sure wasn’t about to refuse an easy way out of the constant headaches Miklan caused him.

‘Fine.’ Glenn drank his tea angrily, rolling his eyes. ‘But I won’t forgive him. I’ll end his stupid life myself if it comes to it.’

  
  


Glenn didn’t follow with his promise. Instead, he decided to protect Sylvain, pushing him to the floor with his own body when the crazed beast Miklan had turned into attacked him. Sylvain groaned, but the sound was drowned by Glenn’s pained screech and the distant sound of Felix yelling his brother’s name. He’d remember looking somewhere, and finding Glenn’s torn tunic and bloodied skin.

  
  


Glenn was lying face down on one of the infirmary beds by the time Sylvain was allowed to visit him, looking like a bored cat that would do anything for something to entertain himself with. Thankfully (or disgracefully) for him, that ended up being Sylvain.

‘Sunshineeeee…’ Manuela must have given him some sort of sedative for the pain if his voice and tired eyes were anything to go by. 

‘How are you feeling?’

‘Bored,’ he murmured, clicking his tongue to emphasize his annoyance. ‘So bored…’

‘Lady Rhea gave me the Lance of Ruin,’ Sylvain said then, trying to sound casual. ‘More like… The professor lowkey forced her to do so.’

‘Good. Throw it into a river.’

Sylvain cackled from the top of his lungs, glad that there was nobody else at the infirmary at the moment. ‘I wish I could. On top of being cursed, it’s ugly as all Aillel.’

‘T’s yours. Just… fucking chuck it.’ His hand gestured vaguely as he spoke. ‘That damn thing… It’s...’ He then looked up at Sylvain, wide-eyed like he had just realized something incredible. ‘Hey. Hey, sun.’

‘Yeah?’

Glenn blinked two times, and then he breathed in. ‘He can’t hurt you. Ever again.’

  
  


Dimitri disappeared, and war engulfed Fodlán, taking with it half of the Faerghus kingdom.  _ Cowards _ , Glenn had called them several times.  _ Traitors  _ was also a favorite of his. In any case, he was the voice for the thoughts no one dared to say as loudly as him, except for maybe Felix and, rarely, Rodrigue himself. 

Contrary to what he expected, he had been able to spend even more time in the Fraldarius household than before. He didn’t miss Gautier, and he missed his parents and their subtle attempts at bringing him back to the “correct path” even less. Fraldarius was marginally warmer, Felix and Ingrid were there, and he could spend entire evenings watching Glenn spar against any person that dared stand before him.

He threw his brother onto the sand of the training grounds with a swift movement of his sword, and Felix groaned. ‘Fuck. You win.’

‘Again.’ Glenn smirked but offered Felix a hand nonetheless. ‘Be a good sport, Fefe. I have five years of advantage on you.’

‘I’ll beat your ass,’ Sylvain heard Felix say, ‘just you wait.’

‘Oh? I can’t wait to see it, little guy.’ He helped Felix up, and turned to their spectators - which that particular evening consisted of Sylvain, Ingrid, and some Fraldarius soldiers. ‘I’m going to take a break, I think. Are you up for some tea, Sylv?’

‘Sure.’

Once Glenn had left his practice sword back on its place, they made their way out of the training grounds. The nearest parlor was a minute away, so Sylvain had some time to observe Glenn carefully: the way he stretched, the confidence he carried himself with, how naturally it came to him to be everything Faerghusian values have always upheld. 

But then he remembered that not even Glenn had done everything right. Especially in the last few months, Glenn’s actions had created a chasm between him and his father, and it had nothing to do with the war raging on outside.

He waited until they were sitting down, with warm cups of tea in front of them to formulate the question.

‘Hey, Glenn.’ He looked up, and Sylvain immediately felt like he was going to violate some sort of untold silence agreement. ‘I’ve been curious about something.’

‘What is it, sunshine?’

‘Why did you break your engagement to Ingrid?’

It was like pouring a bucket of cold water over Glenn’s head. His expression changed, his eyes looked away from Sylvain and into the teacup. Sylvain was surprised to find out that this was what Glenn looked like when he wasn’t sure of something, a face he had rarely shown him before.

‘That’s a good question, sunshine.’

‘You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, you know?’ Sylvain clarified, worried that he might have overstepped. Glenn wasn’t like him, he didn’t hide everything - but he still was on his right to keep things for himself. ‘It just felt strange that you and Ingrid would do that.’

One didn’t need to be a genius to notice Ingrid’s feelings for Glenn were more on the platonic admiration side, rather than the romantic one; and, likewise, one didn’t need to be a genius to know their betrothal’s foundation wasn’t on sincere, romantic love from both parts. But Glenn had rarely strayed from the path his father had set for him: not even after the Tragedy of Duscur had he considered stepping down from knighthood.

And yet here he was. Doing something unexpected and unsafe and so far from what he would usually do. It made Sylvain feel shaken, like one of the building blocks of his life had suddenly changed its inclination.

‘No, no,’ Glenn shook his head. ‘I suppose you should know as well.’

Glenn lay back on the chair, looking at the ceiling instead of his interlocutor. Another strange thing on his part. ‘I spoke with Ingrid for a while, some months ago,’ he started, shifting on his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. ‘We came to the conclusion neither of us was going to be happy like that. There is… more to it, but I recommend you ask her. On my part, it’s… I don’t think this is really a secret, but I suppose I’m not interested in women in that way, after all.’ 

It was more like a well-known secret at this point, but having the confirmation come from Glenn’s own mouth was different than hearing the rumors about Glenn’s tastes. It left a strange taste in Sylvain’s mouth. 

‘Ah, right, I see,’ he said, after a long and uncomfortable silence, laughing shortly. ‘That makes sense.’

Glenn had looked at him, a half-smile on his face that made Sylvain’s pulse go wild.

  
  


But did that mean anything? He wasn’t an actual man. Felix was, had always been, but he couldn’t apply the same metric to himself as much as he tried. Miklan’s shadow still loomed heavy on him, loaded with their parents’ veiled poison, spread through the years but never forgotten. He was a monstrous chimera, outside and inside, a cluster of things that gave shape to a lie in the disguise of a human.

Glenn deserved honesty. Sylvain’s friends deserved honesty. On top of everything else, the world was falling apart around them, Dimitri was out there, somewhere, and nobody had time for his miserable musings. So Sylvain kept silent, trudging forward, hoping to find an easy way out of these thoughts.

  
  


The war kept his nights sleepless, despite the exhaustion in his bones. Walking outside of his bedroom at night just to watch some fresh air and remind himself that Miklan was dead, that Dimitri has been found alive (though Felix would tell him that’s debatable), and that all of his loved ones were breathing as well.

In one of his night strolls, he happened to bump into him. He looked so much more like Felix when he was tired or mad, with his brow furrowed like that and the accentuated bags under his eyes. The loyalty that House Fraldarius had towards House Blaiddyd was no joke: both Fraldarius siblings had been restless and pricklier than usual ever since Dimitri had shown up acting  _ like that _ .

‘Sunshine,’ Glenn muttered, looking just as tired as Sylvain himself was. ‘Going somewhere?’

‘Not really.’ Sylvain shook his head, putting his hands behind his neck. ‘And you?’

Glenn looked in the cathedral’s direction, sighed, and relaxed his shoulders. ‘A night stroll, I suppose. Care to join me?’

‘Sure.’ 

The night was extraordinarily cold, so they stayed close to one another. Sylvain almost felt he was guarding Glenn, short as the other man was, when, in truth, Glenn was one of the strongest soldiers currently in their army. He had no need for Sylvain’s protection. If anything, Sylvain himself needed it.

‘I noticed you missed practice again,’ Glenn murmured, startling him as they made their way to the training grounds. ‘So, since neither of us can sleep, we’ll just make up for your absence.’

Sylvain whined, an automatic reaction whenever someone mentioned his absence from the daily drills. ‘I was busy.’

‘I won’t doubt that,’ but his snarky smile said otherwise, ‘and that’s why I’m suggesting we put our insomnia to good use, sunshine. Grab your weapon of choice.’ 

Sylvain picked a lance, and, as expected, when he turned around, Glenn was holding up a sword. ‘Alright, but go easy on me.’

‘I can’t promise that.’

Glenn lunged forward, giving Sylvain barely any time to react and block his attack. Despite his words, Glenn held back, studying Sylvain instead. Their weapons clashed again, and Sylvain shot him a smirk. ‘Something on your mind?’

Glenn smirked back, so handsome and breathtaking. ‘How did you guess?’

Sylvain repelled his advance, retreating while Glenn got back on his feet. ‘Intuition, I guess.’

‘Your intuition is correct, sunshine. I was wondering...’ He advanced again, and Sylvain barely deflected him, clumsily enough that Glenn easily attacked again, and, in his effort to dodge him, he stumbled, hitting his ass on the floor.

Well, he couldn’t blame him for not trying. 

‘Sunshine,’ he heard Glenn call him, and jerked his head up. Glenn looked messy and pained, even if a spar as silly as this wasn’t anything for him. ‘Do you want to die?’

Sylvain smiled, but there was no real joy about it. ‘Why do you say that?’

‘Don’t think you’re slick,’ Glenn groaned at him, squatting down to meet him eye to eye, ‘Sylvain.’

He shivered when Glenn dropped the nickname. He liked the sound of his name in Glenn’s mouth too much, daydreamed of it too much, and deserved it too little. ‘It’s not that big of a deal, really,’ Sylvain replied, ‘it’s the most efficient way to fight.’

‘How so?’ He was getting angrier, and Sylvain wanted to apologize and run, run far from the training grounds and Garreg Mach and Fodlán, somewhere where nobody knew him. Of course, even the people he genuinely loved would eventually turn on him, when they saw just how rotten it all was inside. ‘You wouldn’t say that about His Highness as he is now.’

‘But that’s Dimitri,’ Sylvain replied, wishing to be buried on the earth itself that very instant, ‘and I am me. If we lose Dimitri, we lose him, and we also lose Faerghus.’ He smiled again, looking at Glenn’s feet. ‘It isn’t that big of a deal if I fall.’

‘Fool.’

The word startled him, and he looked up just enough to see the moment Glenn lunged forward to hold him by the shoulders. His eyes looked brighter under the moonlight, and Sylvain wondered why. ‘Glenn?’

‘I intend for all of us to survive this war. If I fall, that’s on me, and I’ll gladly do so if there is no other option to protect you or anyone else I care for.’ He sighed and continued talking before Sylvain could think of any rebuttal. ‘After the Tragedy of Duscur, I-’ Glenn, all-powerful Glenn and endlessly confident Glenn stumbled with his own words, choked on tears he had sworn to leave behind. ‘I thought I should’ve died with my comrades. I felt sick whenever I was glad to be alive to see my little brother again. Felix was relieved to see me alive, despite how humiliated I felt.’

‘Glenn…’

Silence fell between them for an incalculable amount of time as they gathered their thoughts, and Sylvain noticed a cloud blocking out the moon. What was he supposed to reply to that? He himself had been relieved to see Glenn alive after so much massacre. Dimitri and Glenn had come back from hell, scorched and tired, and never the very same people, but just knowing their hearts were still beating had given Sylvain strength through the worst of Miklan’s abuse right before his disowning.

‘I’m glad you’re alive,’ Glenn finally said, letting go of Sylvain’s shoulders. ‘I look at you, sitting in front of me, and feel that being alive to witness you is worth it. So don’t go and try to cut your own time short, sunshine.’

And Sylvain, who always knew how to reply, was left speechless. Like he was a child again and Glenn still towered over him, when he had to be careful with the frills of his dress, and when he’d still dare to daydream of a day when Glenn would rescue him and take him far, far away, to the Fraldarius manor, like knights in stories did.

Small, with a lump on his throat, he shifted so the weight of his body rested on his knees. ‘Why  _ sunshine _ ?’ Glenn’s eyes widened, confused, and Sylvain clarified, ‘Why do you call me that?’

Glenn’s mouth opened into a circular shape. Then, it shifted into a smile. ‘You never liked your previous name too much. And you were always so happy to see me and Felix… Gautier was always so cold and dark whenever we’d visit, so… I thought you were like sunshine. Bright, warm, and welcoming. Things change,’ he admitted, and the cloud covering the moon passed by, bringing back the light into Glenn’s eyes, ‘but you were always  _ sunshine  _ in some way. Even more, after I fell for you.’ 

Sylvain was sure he had misheard something, but when he stared at Glenn, trying to find any minimal sign of a joke or a misunderstanding, he simply stared back, waiting. A moment passed. Then another.

‘...I’ll go back to my room, then.’ Glenn stood up, sighing in disappointment and avoiding Sylvain’s gaze. ‘That sparring session tired me out just enough. Thank you, sunshine.’

‘Wait.’ Sylvain tried to get up, stumbling like his feet had forgotten how to function, and Glenn waited, standing in the middle of the training grounds with one hand on his hip. Maybe it was the moonlight, maybe it was this newfound information, and maybe it was something else entirely, but he saw the cracks in Glenn’s confidence for the first time, the pieces he had had to put together himself - and they were different to Sylvain’s, but they were fractures all the same. ‘Glenn, I-’

He didn’t want to kiss him, not yet.

So he embraced him instead, his arms hugging Glenn’s body tightly, and he bent over to bury his face on the man’s shoulder. ‘Sunshine,’ Glenn whispered, before dropping his sword and hugging him back rather awkwardly. The Fraldarius had never been good with physical touch, but it felt genuine, and Sylvain needed nothing more than genuine. His fingers stroked Sylvain’s hair, a gesture so shy and careful from the hands of a warrior that it could’ve made Sylvain cry, was he slightly more emotional. 

‘I- I like you, Glenn,’ he murmured, aware that he sounded more like a teenager than the adult he was, but, for how long had those words been locked under his fear? Even then, part of him felt the horror in saying them.

He had imagined the outcome of those words to be disgust, accompanied by the same brand of veiled poison his parents or some of the women that had been with him had used. He knew he wouldn’t survive if that same poison came from Glenn, but instead of that, Glenn simply laughed at the top of his lungs. ‘I  _ like  _ you too, sunshine.’ His hands moved to cup Sylvain’s face, making the skin on his cheeks to flare up and shifting his lips into an embarrassed smile. ‘Immensely, in fact. So much I can’t count the times I’ve thought about kissing you.’

‘You can do it,’ Sylvain blurted out, and, strangely, found himself having no regrets over those words. ‘If you want.’

‘That is very convenient. I’ll kiss you now, then.’

Sylvain thought he was joking until the point when he felt Glenn’s warm lips against his own, a gentle thing that only lasted a few seconds, more than enough to prove to Sylvain that this moment was real, that nobody would take it from him. When they were to wake up the next morning, the war would still rage on, their prince would still be lost in his own mind. But Sylvain could have this: a small kiss under the moonlight, a reason to be, the vindication of Glenn’s love. 

For tonight, he needed nothing else.


End file.
